


What Everyone Knows

by d_aia



Series: Alexander Is a What? [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: BAMF Alec Lightwood, BAMF Magnus Bane, M/M, Now part of a Dragon!Alec series, POV Magnus, POV Magnus Bane, Something!Alec, Stand Alone, Temporary Character Death, dragon!Alec, immortal!alec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 06:44:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10508436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d_aia/pseuds/d_aia
Summary: Magnus ignores everything and everybody, and gets to healing. He can’t let this happen. He won’t. Alexander will survive.“Magnus!” Clary shouts. “We need you.”Magnus doesn’t react.*In which Alexandertransformsand Magnus is smitten.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the tv show (and characters, locations, personal histories etc as are shown in it). This is the work of fanfiction.
> 
> A/N: I write the characters as I see them, and Magnus has an odd way of talking, that I think he used to built his image, so the italicized words are put there intentionally. This story contains **temporary character death,** so be careful about that. My gratitude to Lex, who took the time to cheer me on even if she's busy. Thank you!
> 
> Translation in Russian by AO3 user Chernysh: [О чем все знают... ](https://ficbook.net/readfic/6858877#part_content).

Magnus ignores everything and everybody, and gets to healing. He can’t let this happen. He won’t. Alexander will survive.

“Magnus!” Clary shouts. “We need you.”

Magnus doesn’t react.

Clary continues, “Magnus, I know that you care about Alec, but you can’t—”

“I can,” Magnus interrupts. It’s final, and dark, and promises pain. “If I don’t, I _lose_ him.”

“I know that he’s important, but Magnus, is it worth it if we’re all dead?” Clary asks, and her will and determination was always something that Magnus admired, and Alexander hated.

Today it’s going to meet its match.

“Of course it’s worth it,” Magnus replies shortly and falls silent.

“Magnus!” Clary shouts.

“That is not my job, _this_ is!” Magnus shouts back. “I’m a Warlock, a spell master and I do spells. You’re Nephilim, Shadowhunters—so _shadowhunt_!”

Clary falls silent, and Magnus gets back to healing.  And hoping. He feeds as much magic as he safely can. The important thing here is striking a balance between not too overwhelming Alexander’s system, and closing the wound. Luckily, Magnus got the venom out, but it still left behind an ugly wound.

If Magnus could spare the time to point fingers, he would blame Jace, for being careless and acting like he was invincible, and Alexander for making sure Jace was right at Alexander’s expense. Magnus never wants to see Alexander putting his body in a demon’s path of attack again. It is beyond worrying how little Alexander thinks of himself.

Alexander’s pulse keeps getting weaker as Magnus’ desperation increases. He doesn’t know what more to do. There _isn’t_ anything more that he could do. So, almost without realizing it, Magnus starts whispering, “Alexander, come on. Hang in there for me. Please, Angel. Hold on.”

In the meantime, because impossibly, Alexander’s heart keeps beating, Magnus pushes a little more magic.  He knows he shouldn’t. Magnus is aware that it is too much, but it’s slightly better than Alexander bleeding to death.

Alexander’s heart stops.

But Magnus refuses to accept that end. He changes his spell mid-gesture, releasing magical energy in the air, and gathering more to zap Alexander’s heart into working. It doesn’t work. Magnus does it again. And again.

Until, with a loud roar, Alexander—is it really him?—wakes up. His eyes glow an icy blue, and his bones begin to snap, black scales growing over his skin. He looks in pain, and Magnus can’t do anything for him.

Magnus stays where he is, less than a foot from Alexander, but it’s not like Magnus can help. He is… _almost_ as clueless as the others, who by the non-existent noises have stopped fighting.  Or a side—both, maybe?—has died. Now Magnus _has_ an idea about what’s happening to Alexander, but he’s not too keen on sharing it. It’s a Downworlder fairytale, and now is not the time for it. But if it isn’t that, Magnus doesn’t know what’s happening.

By the time Alexander has stopped transforming, Magnus feels… satisfied? Alexander is no longer dying, he is no longer in pain, and he seems ready to offer a solution to Clary’s problem. So, yes, Magnus is satisfied. Oh, and he was right.

Alexander is a dragon.

And a beautiful one at that, Magnus adds to himself. As big as a two story house, Alexander’s lizard body has gleaming obsidian scales, icy blue eyes, powerful leathery-looking wings, and the cutest nostrils that have ever existed. They are flared, and make him seem permanently grumpy. Magnus itches to touch.

“What the…” Jace trails off in awe.

But Magnus doesn’t hear him, because Alexander is starting to get his bearings, and he begins investigating. Everything he does is adorable. His snout moves in the demon’s direction, and the smell must be horrible, because he recoils like a spooked cat. He looks at them as if offended by their very existence, and coughs delicately at them.

Magnus is going to explode of cuteness overload.

The second cough is not as elegant, but the stream of icy water that hardens upon contact is certainly efficient. Magnus, at least, is sure of it and doesn’t pay attention to the other’s horrified gasps. And the swipe of Alexander’s tail that decimates the bodies is done with great poise.

Then Alexander swivels to them. He is studying them, Magnus thinks, but Alexander’s cute muzzle, with his cuter nostrils, is within reach, and Magnus extends his arm, silently asking for permission. Alexander seems to consider it for a few more moments, before lightly bumping his snout against Magnus’ hand. Magnus can’t hold it in, and he giggles, as he pets Alexander with all his might.

“Hello, Angel,” Magnus croons. “You make a _beautiful_ dragon, Alexander.”

Alexander snorts, a rush of cold air settling over Magnus, and swivels to the right to direct Magnus’ caresses.

“Dragon?” Izzy murmurs.

“ _Yes,”_ Magnus says, and he tries to scratch under Alexander’s chin. “It appears so.”

Alexander’s tail hits the ground and his eyes close in pleasure, so laughing, Magnus continues.

But when Jace takes a step forward, Alexander immediately turns to him. There is no recognition on Alexander’s part, nor any gesture of good will. As soon as Alexander narrows his eyes, Magnus interferes.

“Hey, Angel, would it be _too_ much to ask to not eat, freeze, shatter, or otherwise harm Jace?” Magnus coos. “I ask for yourself, Alexander. You might be _upset.”_

Jace send Magnus an incredulous look, which Magnus shrugs off.

Alexander ponders that for a bit, and, to Magnus surprise—he’s perpetually surprised by Alexander—Alexander lifts his chin, willing to do it for a good scratch.

“You want a _bribe_ ,” Magnus laughs delightedly.

Alexander gets this self-satisfied expression that only makes Magnus laugh harder. 

“When does he turn back?” Jace demands crankily.

“Well,” Magnus says absently, concentrating on how Alexander’s scales feel on his hands. They’re smooth, cool to touch, and sharp where they overlap. “It’s going to be _a while_ longer. He was not in the best shape when he transformed, _and_ changes in mass take a lot of energy.”

“Why did he transform?” Clary asks in a clear voice. If Magnus detects a tremble underneath that, he can’t blame Clary. It’s not every day the person that dislikes you changes into an ice-spitting, tail-destroying, house-sized death creature.  Though Alexander already had the death-creature part covered, Magnus supposed that the other three could make a difference.

And, of course, the question makes Magnus uncomfortable because he might be the reason. In fairytales, the dragons hatched in the active presence of magic. If Magnus only considered the times he had to heal Alexander that would be plenty, but there were the times when Magnus changed Alexander’s clothes, summoned the food that Alexander consumed, and… other purposes, that Alexander has been bathing in Magnus’ magic for three years now.

Magnus looks at Izzy, and asks with a raised eyebrow, “Do you have _any_ dragons in the family? Any _cold-blooded_ creatures?”

Izzy snorts. “You know that we do, but no dragons so far.”

“Wait,” Simon says. “What’s with the ice? Shouldn’t it be fire? Have I been lied to this whole time? I’m betrayed by pop-culture.”

“There might be different types,” Clary says. “Right, Magnus?”

Magnus hums, not saying anything one way or another.

“After their personalities?” Sherman asks. “Ice Prince, anybody?”

Magnus eyes narrow, and Alexander, probably because Sitwell’s voice was so annoying—or, Magnus thinks with trepidation, because Alexander felt Magnus’ annoyance—flaps his wings. Twice. He just… does it. And the effect is almost comical.

None of them fall, but it’s like they are fighting against a very strong wind that nearly succeeds at toppling them over.

“I think ice is okay too!” Simon yells, and both Magnus and Alexander settle down.

Rolling her eyes, Izzy clears her throat, and says, “Hey, Alec!” She waves. “Remember me?” But she stays where she is.

Alexander gets closer, sniffs her, and then, as if reluctantly, bumps her with his head.

“You’re going to be a joy in the summer!” Izzy exclaims delightedly as she feels how cool he is.

Magnus breathes easier. All is not lost. After Alexander gets to know each of them, and after some time passes, it should all be good. Magnus is unclear whether Alexander is ever going to like Jace, but Magnus hopes that in time they’ll be able to get along. If only for Alexander’s sake.

_In time._

Magnus freezes. This is not good. Dragons are long-lived. Magnus doesn’t remember exactly how long, or if they are immortal, but he knows Alexander is not going to be happy about it. And it’s Magnus’ fault.

*

Like Warlocks, Dragons can be killed, but, if left to their devices, they are immortal. Magnus swallows and closes the book with a snap. He is guilty, and happy, in equal measures. Taking a deep breath, Magnus realizes that he has to talk to Alexander.

*

“I still can’t believe I’m a dragon,” Alexander says quietly, while sitting on the couch.

Magnus takes a deep breath, and says, “Alexander?”

“What’s up?” Alexander frowns and sits up.

“Dragons appear most faithfully in _Downwolder_ fairytales, and that’s our best source of information, because… people haven’t exactly rushed to write any books about them. I _wonder_ if it’s because they didn’t know anything, or, like me were not rushing to write their weakness for people who might want them dead. Maybe _both._ As for my own experience, don’t tell anybody, but I’m _not_ old enough to remember any,” Magnus says, and smiles gently at Alexander’s snort. It may be the last— no, Magnus is not going to go there. Not now. He does, however, continue, “ _Dragons_ are born when magic is acted upon them directly.” 

Alexander isn’t fazed. “That would make sense, right?” he asks. “Because my family has always been against Downworlders. Maybe it was something an ancestor established, in order to hide, or someone didn’t want dragons and manipulated an ancestor. It wouldn’t be the first time someone charming won over somebody in my family to their own purposes.”

Magnus feels a bit of rebuke. He hasn’t been aware that Alexander sees him that way, though Magnus supposes it’s true, and… And Magnus suddenly realizes that Alexander hadn’t meant Magnus, he meant Valentine. Oh, hell! Magnus needs to get this over with.

“And the _fairytales_ say that Dragons are”—Magnus hesitates, just a little bit— “immortal.” He swallows, wishing he had a drink to hide it with, and goes on, “Not to say that you can’t be killed. Do you see any dragons? _Obviously,_ you can.”

Magnus feels the need to babble further. Alexander’s not saying anything, and he has this blank expression that Magnus can’t read, and silence is difficult. However, for Alexander, Magnus shuts up and waits.

“How did you react?” Alexander asks suddenly.

“Sorry?”

Alexander turns to Magnus, and says, “When you found out that you were immortal?”

“Uh…” Magnus frowns, trying to remember. It was a long time ago, and he was an emotional wreck, and Alexander had once again—always—surprised him, so now he’s speechless. But he eventually finds the words. “I _think_ I didn’t realize it. I had other thinks to worry about, _and_ , at the time, it wasn’t a problem. Someone just _tried_ to kill me. I still had the same odds against me, and I didn’t think I would reach fifty.”

Alexander reaches out to embrace him, and Magnus leans into it. He isn’t indifferent to Alexander’s comfort, but Magnus wants to offer a part of his experience. “By the time that it became an _uncontestable_ reality, I had other immortal friends. And friends died, either too soon or too soon for me, _but_ I think that’s not very different than usual.”

“That seems right.” Alexander kisses Magnus’s cheek.

 “Alexander?”

“It’s who I am.” Alexander shrugs. “If I don’t see a demon behind Izzy tomorrow, or if she dies of old age, it would still be too soon whether I survive her by two centuries or two seconds. It wouldn’t be my choice, but that’s who I am.”

“ _It_ is my fault,” Magnus confesses.

“Not really,” Alexander says. “If you knew what I could become, and still did it, then we might have another discussion.” He raises a hand, when Magnus opens his mouth. “Even then, it would be debatable. Is it crueler of you to disrespect my decision, or of me to make you respect it? I think any of those options would be hard for us. But that’s not what happened. Just like it’s not…” Alexander takes a deep breath. “Just like it’s not your step-father’s merit that you discovered how to light things on fire, it’s not your fault that I am immortal.” 

Magnus closes his eyes, but a tear still escapes. “Fair enough,” he answers, choked with emotion. His grief is suffocating, just like his joy, and he’s just really happy that he has Alexander. _“Cuddle?”_

Alexander arm’s is around him, before Magnus even finishes the question.

*

 _“And,”_ Magnus says dramatically, “we have a dragon.”

Alexander’s wings burst out of his back. They discussed this. Alexander would not listen to reason—it’s more striking!—until Magnus offered a sensible one: there wouldn’t be enough space in the room for his full form.

Around them, the faces are filled with shock and awe, and Magnus turns to Alexander victoriously. Alexander crosses his hands gloomily, which makes him all the more imposing. Raphael, to the side, surreptitiously hits his forehead with his open palm. And Magnus? He bows.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you want to comment (or just talk to me) you can do it here or on my [tumblr](http://e-alexandrescu.tumblr.com/).


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